George's Story
by sunnyr
Summary: This is George's POV from Walking at Midnight. After watching, I couldn't shake the pain in his expression the entire time they were on the boat. It's my first fanfic- so let me know what you think please.


**Of course I do not own these characters, the dialogue or the story. **

**I watched the show this week and couldn't shake the pain in George's face for the houseboats scenes. I couldn't let it go- and this came out. The start is a little slow, but I think the second half gets better. It's my first attempt at fanfic- so please review! **

* * *

After an overwhelming morning, and a busy day at work, I now have 2 dates for the Halloween party. I am tired all the time. Now I know how Wade feels… I lay down to go to bed. Halloween is tomorrow. The Rammer Jammer party should be fun I think as I close my eyes.

* * *

I awake to a burning in my eyes and nose. I've been pepper sprayed! By Zoe! What the hell?!

"What were you thinking, I could have seriously hurt you!" screams Zoe.

Wounded, I reply, "You did seriously hurt me!" Then, confusion, "Oh my God, how did I get in here?"

"Very funny…" Zoe sarcastically replies.

Confusion deepens, "No, I'm serious, what did you do to me?"

Incredulous, "What did I do to you?!"

"Yeah, last thing I remember is going to sleep in my own bed…"

Zoe squints at me, assessing, "Are you drunk?"

Slightly hysterical, "No! But, to be honest with you, I am freaking out a little bit! Ok...? I mean, I'm really freaking out! This is…" I trail off-ok, I'm hysterical…

"Ok, we're gonna figure this out. Has anything else strange been happening to you lately?"

Embarrassed, I admit, "Thursday I woke up with candy corn in my hair and last night I woke up at the gas station… in my underwear… uh, where you goin'?" We're kinda in the middle of something here…

Zoe heads to the bathroom, one hand up telling me to wait a minute. She returns waving a toothbrush in the air. "Is this your toothbrush?!"

Shocked, "YES! I've been looking for that!" Feeling a bit slow, "Wait… why do you have it?"

"George, you have been sleepwalking." Zoe says with the authority of one who has NO idea what she's talking about.

I snatch my toothbrush from her (as if taking the evidence will negate the facts). "NO, NO, NO, NO… that's impossible, I stopped sleepwalking when I was 9 years old."

Somewhat smugly, "So, there's a history." Seriously? "Have you started taking any new medications, or have you been eating anything different?"

Mystified, slightly embarrassed (and still in denial), "Candy corn?"

"Alright, listen, in adults sleepwalking is usually caused by stress," she has her doctor voice on now… "Has there been anything stressing you out recently?" Not that I'm willing to admit to you…

"No, actually everything's been great…" her brow furrows (I think…) Is she upset that I'm enjoying bachelorhood? Maybe I didn't see that… it was very brief… I continue, "I've been enjoying life on my new houseboat…"

She interrupts me, "I'm sorry, did you say houseboat?"

Grinning, "Yeah."

"Are you kidding?! Do you know how dangerous it is to sleepwalk when you're on a houseboat?!"

As realization dawns, I'm horrified, "Oh my God, you're right!"

"It's alright, we just have to figure out what's causing this."

Panic… I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure I know now, considering where I am and based on the dreams I've been having lately… and it's nothing I'd like to admit to the doctor who occupies my waking and sleeping thoughts…

She continues, "How about tonight, I come over attach an EEG machine to you and watch you sleep?"

Not my first choice for a nighttime activity with Zoe… "Normally that would sound super fun," I laugh awkwardly, "but there's a Halloween party tonight. So… " I trail off, that's a good excuse… I have dates expecting me after all…

She nods, and I think I've avoided this embarrassing plan. "Alright, well good, you know, go to the party, have a couple beers and then go to sleep." Whew, bullet avoided. "Alright. Thank you Zoe." I hand her the towel she lent me when my eyes and nose were running uncontrollably- a fun side effect of the pepper spray. Snot and tears impress the woman you're in love with, right?

…she's not done, "Mmm hmm, you probably won't end up in the middle of the Gulf, but just in case," she pats my arm condescendingly, "wear a life vest."

Clenching my jaw and giving up, I should have known I would, I bow my head, tip my toothbrush to her and say the only thing I can, "See you tonight Doctor." After all, that's all our relationship seems to be these days. Doctor-patient, hardly even friends. I can't remember the last time we talked.

Defeated, I turn to leave and she calls out in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!" You'd think she was enjoying this or something. Briefly, I wonder if she knew I had a date… err… dates. Probably not.

* * *

The next night, she meets me on my houseboat. This is NOT how I envisioned our first night together… and believe me, I've pictured it many times… in MANY different ways…

She follows closely behind me as I go to the kitchen- I may need a drink for this. "So I'm going to be taking notes on anything you do," she's using her doctor voice again… what happened to our friendship, her feelings for me? Has she forgotten what we had? What we could be? Irreverently, I wonder just how detailed her notes will be… just what she would write down… my mind considers mischievous, slightly R rated thoughts… "and I'm going to follow you if you sleepwalk." Could I be more uncomfortable with this? We both know where I've ended up- more than once… is she really this dense, being deliberately obtuse or just in denial… or have her feelings for me changed so much she's hoping for a different cause? Pain. I can't even ponder the last option, although this is not the first time I've considered it. "And hopefully we can discover what's been stressing you out." Did she get her medical degree online? I immediately chastise myself for such an unkind thought. More and more I feel like SHE'S in denial… though I'm not sure why. Not sure I want to think about it too much.

She's still not done, "The most important thing is, to try to stick to your routine as much as possible." She smiles. I laugh inwardly, no… no I don't think you want me to do that Dr. Hart… To distract myself from these dark thoughts, I pour myself a glass of water.

"Ok, well, uh, my routine doesn't usually have you following me around all night, so…" sometimes OTHER women follow me around, per your request… but I don't think she wants to hear that, nor the next thought that came to mind… I take a drink.

"You won't even notice that I'm here." Ha! I laugh in my head. Incredulously, I look at her over my glass. Cheerfully, she asks, "So what would you usually do next?"

…ok… I set down my glass. Deep breath. She wants to play at this game? Let's see how she reacts to this- I begin to unbutton my shirt as I stare into her eyes- challenging her. This was HER idea after all… hmmm now that I think about it, this IS more how I pictured our first night together… I notice her eyes leave mine as I undo more buttons. Her eyes lower to my chest, but only for a moment. She turns away. WHY? Doesn't she still want me?

Stumbling over her words, she suggests, "Ok, uh, how about for tonight you change maybe… uh, over there?" Her voice trails off uncertainly as she frantically looks around my house- she gestures toward my bedroom space. Her eyes are now firmly fixed anywhere but my now undone shirt.

As I slide past her, between my chair and the counter, I pause- unnecessarily close. I need to know something… see her reaction… I dunno. I place my hands on my hips, look down at her and murmur, "You really think this is a good idea?" For me? For you? For us? I know I stand a chance of at best, being embarrassed, at worst, heartbroken… is there anything on the line for her other than scientific curiosity? Could this change everything? And if so, how? Maybe this could be a good thing… her eyes won't meet mine… not because they're avoiding mine, because she can't stop raking them up and down the open space of my shirt… maybe there is hope? Quickly, I squash the thought. Good thing too-

Neutrally she says, "It's, um… our only option at this point." She lifts her head and looks me in the eye. Now, if I had Wade's confidence, I'd take her pause as distraction, confident she was preoccupied with my chest and her attraction to me. I however, worry that she was trying to find the words to keep me at arm's length. She holds my gaze.

Once again, I fold first. "Ok…" I walk away unsatisfied again with our latest exchange. "Whatever you say Doc." I try to pull this off with a flippant tone. I'm fine. Really, I'm fine.

But, remembering her eyes on my chest just moments ago, I can't help what my ego forces me to do next… as I walk away, I finish unbuttoning my shirt and, knowing I've not yet reached the privacy barrier of my room, I take it off- not slowly, but… enough that I know she got a good show. I may not run around half naked like Wade, but let's be honest, I'm alright in the muscle department too. I let myself believe she enjoyed the show. Her sigh and throat clear could indicate I'm right… or that she has the start of a cold… I get dressed for bed.

I hear my cell phone signal a text message. Zoe picks it up and reads aloud, "Someone named Daisy," I can hear the sarcasm in her voice as she says Daisy, "wants to know if she should be a sexy nun or a sexy referee?" Laughing, "Really, those were the only choices?" 1) WHY is she picking up my phone, 2) why does she care? Does she care? Is she jealous? Ok, that's more than 2… Well, let's continue my experiment…

"Darn it," I say from behind the privacy wall. I walk out and lean against the doorway in my undershirt and boxers, "I forgot to tell Daisy I couldn't make it tonight," I drawl lazily. She's staring again… and not at my face. Mental happy dance.

She drags her eyes upward, "Bedtime!" she calls out cheerily, "Get in bed." I frown, why does it seem like I'm a small child being ordered to bed. Again, my thoughts wander to how I've pictured this moment. In that alternate reality, when she says bedtime, it's not motherly and she is wearing fewer clothes… though just now she is following me to my bed- at least that part is the same…

I lay down. "Scoot over a little." "Really?!" More orders… again, not how I imagined things… ok, not the FIRST time she spent the night anyway… STOP IT GEORGE- don't make this situation more embarrassing than it is… baseball, the designated hitter rule, Grandma… I try to get comfortable as she sits on the edge of my bed.

She glances around my room. Her gaze stops above my bed, in a small voice she says, "You were going to be a firefighter tonight?" What is that tone? I look behind me, "Yeah… why, is that… It's stupid isn't it?" I'm a 30 year old lawyer- could I sound more like an uncertain teenager?

We lock eyes. I feel something in her gaze. Why is she uncomfortable? Does she think it's a dumb idea? Can she sense my attraction to her and she doesn't feel the same? Or maybe… dare I hope… is it attraction? Women love a man in uniform, or so I'm told… I suddenly feel like an inexperienced teen again… sigh.

"No." She shakes her head as if to clear it, she smiles. "Ok." She's focused again. I sigh inwardly. "Alrighty." Maybe not so focused… "Can you hold that there for me?" She presses the EEG box to my chest. "Yeah," I sigh. "Thank you," is all she replies. She begins unpacking the machine.

"You really think this is gonna work?" I ask as she presses the nodes to my face. I try not to feel. "Sure," she says. …That sounds confident. WHY are we doing this again? "Now go to sleep." Really? Are you my mother? She presses a button on the box.

"Just…" I start, I can't even finish the thought. There are so many things I want to say. So many things I'd rather be doing with her on my bed…

"Yup. Just pretend I'm not here." "Yeah," I laugh once in derision, "that's gonna be pretty much impossible," I reply drily… I'd bet the price of my aborted wedding I'll be sleepwalking tonight. She looks away, uncomfortable, taken aback by my bluntness.

I try to soften my next gesture with a smile as I point to the living room, indicating that she should leave… now. Back to business. "Goodnight Dr. Hart." She sighs as she gets up from my bed and settles into a chair facing my room- notepad in hand, ready to record my every move…"Sweet dreams!" she says in that sing song voice- I'm really starting to hate that voice. I give her a sarcastic thumbs up, eyes closed. She's staring at me… hoping to have something to write about, again those mischievous thoughts pop into my head.

Baseball, the designated hitter, Grandma, 1, 2, 3, 4 sheep… this is never going to work. Thoughts of Zoe creep into my head. I can FEEL her presence in my living room, watching me. She's so close, and yet so far away. Again, I think of how this night SHOULD be… STOP- go to sleep… Baseball, the designated hitter, Grandma… eventually, I fall asleep. I have been really tired lately…

* * *

Later that night…

I wake up, and I remember I have a party to get to- why did I go to bed so early? I get dressed and head out the door.

A short while later-

I arrive at the Rammer Jammer, looking for my date. A stranger in a ref costume approaches me, asking me strange questions. I see Her over the stranger's head. I smile, there's my girl. She sees me and calls out, "George!" the relief is palpable in her voice. "Zoe." What a wonderful word. I see Wade behind her, has he been bothering her again? I pull her close and introduce Zoe to the stranger. "This is my girlfriend." The stranger wanders away. She seems angry. Weird.

Zoe leads me outside. I sit down. Suddenly, I'm standing and I have a waiter on my arm, leading me away. "No thank you sir, we do not need you to help us. We've been here many times." I'm not sure why, but he calls out, "Bond, James Bond." "Where?" I ask this strange gentleman.

* * *

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I remember is Zoe waking me on the deck of the boathouse, "Come on, let's get you to bed." Sleepily, I think that's the best idea I've heard all night. I rise from my chair, "Ok." I nod. I look down at her, "You going to bed now?" She smiles and nods. I love her smile. "That's a good idea, it's been a long day and I am… very tired." I take her hand in mine. Sleep is not currently on my mind. I smile.

She looks up into my eyes. And asks, "So… we're together huh?" ….Huh? What kind of question is that? "Duh. You're actin' weird…" Undeterred, she whispers, "George, are we happy?"

I don't know where this conversation came from, but I know the answer to this one.

"How could we not be?" I say simply as I lean toward her, "Zoe, you and I…" I lean closer, "we, belong…" I never finish that thought.

* * *

I wake up, for real this time I realize- cold, wet, standing alone in the Gulf- what the hell just happened?! "I'm up, I'm up." I splutter as Zoe looks down at me from the boat. Did I fall overboard?

* * *

Inside, I change into dry clothes, dry my hair and try to warm up. Even Alabama can be cold in November.

Dreading the answer, I ask, "Ok, what happened tonight?" I sit down in my chair.

Zoe finishes my tea, "You had quite the adventure there Fire Chief." We both chuckle uneasily. She hands me my mug, "Careful, it's hot," she warns me. And she sits down across from me. "Thank you."

Before we can begin, my cell phone chimes. I reach for it. "Oh, it's from Daisy," I say, surprised. "Hey Jerkface," I read… confused and somewhat taken aback, I continue, "Why didn't you tell me you… had… a… girlfriend?" I pause on each of the last 4 words. Apparently, I just thought I was confused before. "I call foul."

"What the hell?" I ask Zoe.

She pauses and plays dumb for a moment, "What, huh, oh! She was dressed as a sexy referee." She laughs. This was not what I meant, and she knows it. "No… Zoe, what girlfriend?" For once I feel like a mind reader. You can see the "Damn" scroll across her face. She was hoping that would get her off the hook. Really? Just 'cuz I talk slow, doesn't mean I'm stupid.

"Oh." She's trying to find words. This is going to be bad… really, really bad… "Well, as it turns out, in your dream state, you are in a relationship." She says matter of factly- the damn doctor voice is back.

I can't stop myself… I want to, I'm almost sick wishing I didn't have to ask, "With…?" "Hmm?" Zoe, you are too smart to play this dumb. ANSWER THE QUESTION!

I don't know that I have the willpower to ask again. But I do, more forcefully this time, as much as I don't want to hear it, I have to know what she knows. "WITH…?"

She shrugs, "Me," she smiles and her eyes smile too. For the first time in weeks I see a glimpse of my Zoe, the one who has feelings for me. But at the same time I feel physically ill, like a teenager who's feelings have been outed to the entire school. I slump in my chair, I look away, anywhere but her. It's stupid- this is Zoe- I KNOW she feels the same way… well, FELT the same way. Now I'm not so sure… the sick feeling intensifies. She knows now how I feel and I have NO CLUE what she's thinking. Ignorance WAS bliss- why did she have to press this issue tonight? Stupid sleep study.

"If I had to speculate, you know, as your PHSYICIAN," that absurd doctor voice is back- in my head I angrily shout, that's all you are to me? My DOCTOR? I feel so sick… "It might mean that a small part of you is still hung up on me…" she continues. I pinch my nose between my fingers to feel pain somewhere other than my chest. Setting aside the disgust that accompanies the phrase 'hung up on me'- is that all we were? Hung up on each other? Do people end 15 year relationships and cancel weddings for 'hung up on someone?' How DARE she belittle the feelings I have for her, that SHE HAD for me. I can't look at her. I'm embarrassed, I'm sick, I'm… I'm going to have to lay it on the line. There's no going back now.

"Which would probably explain you walking into my house in the middle of the night and leaving your toothbrush…" she trails off. Again, I wonder, unkindly, if she got her degree in the Caymans…

She finally seems to be done. I raise my eyebrows, I take a deep breath. "Well, it's not really that big of a surprise is it?" I ask huskily, emotion clouding my voice. I straighten up in my chair, I stop avoiding her gaze and look right at her. She pauses. The doctor façade finally falls. So does her face. This is gonna hurt. It's going to hurt a lot.

I press on. "Zoe, a part of me still is 'hung up on you,'" I can barely say the words without obvious contempt. How insignificant that sounds compared to what I feel. She's speechless. I continue, I have to, she has to know. I look away and look back at her. "Like a big… big part." I meet her gaze now. "Like pretty much most of me, like all of me." I pause, "The question is..." I should stop now, but I can't- I lean forward, "Why AREN'T we together again?" I hold her gaze with mine. I refuse to let her avoid this question.

It seems she's decided to do just that though, she gets up and walks away. I put my head in my hands.

* * *

She's standing in my kitchen, packing her bags methodically, doctor face back on. "Hopefully if you let some of this stress go, the sleepwalking will subside. In the meantime I'm going to prescribe a mild sedative." Briefly, I wonder how many I would need to take to make this pain go away.

No, I won't let her off this easy. She WILL tell me how she feels. I have to know. I HAVE to. I DESERVE to. I gather my courage to try this conversation again.

I stand behind her and with a lump in my throat, I croak, "So that's it, huh?" Without turning to face me she replies, "I don't know what else to say." Ummm a thousand things- I love you, I hate you, I'm in love with someone else, I still want a future with you, You should move on, say SOMETHING!

"Why don't you answer my question?" I prompt, trying and failing at nonchalance.

Zoe whirls around, "Come on, George," as if my question is unfair. I think unfair went out the window when she asked to do the sleep study when the answer was already painfully obvious.

"I'm serious," I reply. She got an answer- to a question that really didn't need to be asked in my opinion- I deserve one too. Her feelings have been more guarded than mine since I called off my wedding. I've expressed how I felt, plainly and from the heart at least 3 times. And she asked me to see other people. I HAVE to know if this time apart has changed her mind.

"You think I'm not still hung up on you too?" That phrase again. I'm writing Webster's to have it stricken from public record.

Trying to keep a smirk, I give a sarcastic laugh, "Well, I don't know. Uh…. Are you?" You certainly haven't said so, my mind screams.

"Of COURSE I am," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. My heart leaps- for a moment- I mash it back into place. It's not that easy. She's not done. "But I meant what I said." I chew on my tongue to keep from interrupting.

"We have to think in terms of the long game. Now is not our time. I can't be your rebound. I can't get my heart broken by you again!"

As if I needed reminding that I did that the first time. I agonize over the might have been, I dream about our night in New Orleans, ponder constantly what would have happened next if Lemon hadn't climbed that church, or better yet, if I'd stood up to her and the preacher in the first place. I have to defend myself. "K, Zoe and I'm doing everything I can to make sure that does not happen. I'm out there 'sowing my wild oats.' I've…" I pause, should I REALLY share this with the woman I one day hope to marry? "I've been on THIRTEEN dates in THREE weeks."

It doesn't even faze her. She CHASTIZES me! "You can't just go through the motions biding time until you can be with me… that is NOT moving on!" Her voice gets higher, "And, if you haven't moved on, how can I NOT be your rebound?!"

I give up. "What exactly is it that you want from me?" I demand, trying and failing to keep my temper under control. I've tried, I've tried to do what she asked and it's still not good enough. WHEN will SHE decide it's our time? WHAT do I have to do to be with her? Do I not have a say in this at all? Like a small child, apparently I need it spelled out for me.

"I can't believe that I'm gonna say this…" she sighs, takes a deep breath-

I think I've changed my mind. I don't want to know- I take it back… but it's too late.

"Maybe, to help you move on, to stop thinking about me, to SLEEP, you need to be with someone you actually feel something for."

I'm speechless. What?! I shake my head. What is she saying? I don't WANT to have feelings for anyone else… can't she see that, can't she UNDERSTAND that? Who am I supposed to be getting over here? Lemon… or HER? I'm a lawyer… I argue for a living, and I can think of nothing to say.

I should have spoken. Nothing can stop or make me unhear the next words. "Because I kinda am."

I should check the roof, because I feel as if a ton of bricks has just fallen on my head. My heart is in my toes- not that it matters, it stopped beating. My life this last year flashes before my eyes. I gave up EVERYTHING for her. And now my world is upside down, and the person that would have made that ok is telling me she has feelings for someone else, and wants me to have them too- for someone other than her… There are no words.

I nod. "I see." I don't. But what can I say? I want to argue, but there are no words. Just pain.

My subconscious takes over. "Who is it?" I ask before I can stop myself. Just then my brain kicks in and saves my heart further damage- "No, you know what? I don't want to know." I already know. I don't want to, but I'm not stupid either.

"Is it serious?" This may kill me.

She shakes her head. "No," she says simply, as she looks to the floor. My heart takes a tentative beat. Hope. I try to fight it, it will just hurt more later.

She looks back up at me. "But it's what I need right now."

Maybe hope is ok… I give a small nod. And a small smile. I can do this, I love her enough to let her go for now. "Ok." She is my destiny. I'm hers. I'm glad she hasn't totally forgotten that.

"Goodnight, George."

I swallow hard. I don't trust myself to speak yet. Disappointed, she turns to gather her things. As she leaves, she pauses in the doorway, and looks back at me, willing me to speak.

I stare at my feet, where my heart now resides, and I gather every ounce of me not splattered about the kitchen to say, "Goodnight, Zoe." I beg in my head for her to leave quickly. I need to be alone. She seems to understand and closes the door behind her.

I turn and head to bed. Maybe tonight I can lose myself in dreams that don't involve Zoe Hart. A man can hope right? I lay my head on my pillow and for the first time in weeks, enjoy a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**What do you think? Please review!**


End file.
